


Misadventures of the Flying Pizza Delivery Girl

by ellesmer_joe3



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellesmer_joe3/pseuds/ellesmer_joe3
Summary: "Iron Man was cool. He could prove to be an egotistical ass sometimes on live television, but he still cared. That was probably the reason why I liked him so much. With barely a second to think about it, I jumped off the windowsill and rocketed towards the rapidly falling Tony Stark." And everything else that happens afterwards. / Rated M for a blonde with a potty mouth.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I WROTE THIS ON A WHIM, OKAY. COMPLETELY AND WITHOUT QUESTION. I was reading Iron Man fics and this idea just popped into my head and I couldn't get it to go away so I just said "fuck it" and gave birth to this piece of shit. There are probably a lot of plotholes, or just stupid things (idk if y'all will notice because I definitely did HAHAHA.) But, it seemed a waste not to put this up.
> 
> So, here it is, unbeta'd and only proofread once. By me.
> 
> Enjoy.  
> P.S. This is imported from my account on ff.net, just FYI.

After finding out that I could fly, and that a lot of other people could as well, apparently, not much could faze me anymore. That’s what I thought, at least. But then a huge wormhole opened up in the sky and an army of aliens came racing into New York, and I didn't know what to think anymore.

I had already seen a lot , mainly because one: I was a delivery girl, and two: I could fly. There's not much that you can't see when you live under the radar and can fly. I had already heard about the shit-storm in Mexico a few months back, but this one was clearly much, _much_ worse.

The people had been evacuated to the subways. They were scared. I wasn't, weirdly enough. I sat on the windowsill of an abandoned apartment building in 23rd street, eating the pizza that I was on my way to deliver when everything went down. It was delicious – extra cheese and mushrooms. I would have preferred no mushrooms, but I couldn't exactly be choosy. It may very well be the last pizza I ever ate.

Don't get me wrong. The Avengers had come, and even the N.Y.P.D. was helping out in killing the aliens, but things weren't looking too great. The streets were littered with the corpses of aliens, even one of those giant whale-things that I had seen come through the wormhole, but more just kept coming.

 That buff dude Thor seemed to be missing in action, and it had been a while since I'd seen the Hulk jumping around the place. Iron Man was up and kicking – I saw him zip down the street just a few minutes ago – but their land-bound friends were God knows where.

I had thought of going out there and helping out, once or twice, but that idea had always been squashed by the fact that I had absolutely no idea how to fight. Give me a gun and I'd probably waste the whole round shooting past the son of a bitch. Give me a knife and I'd cut myself (probably you too for giving me a knife in the first place.)

So yeah, going out there was a bad idea. I'd die within minutes, and I didn't want to add up to the Avengers' body count, which was already _horrible_ enough as it was. They didn't deserve any more blood on their hands. They were trying. Meanwhile, I had finished the whole box of pizza and was massaging my tummy in satisfaction.

 I wondered then: If the aliens took over New York, would they expand to other states? Other countries? Would there be a brand new group of superheroes in spandex that would try and stop the world from going to shit?

I really didn't want the world to end. Being able to fly was fun, but I actually didn't want to see death and devastation every time I looked down from my spot in the sky. That would just be plain depressing.

Deciding against throwing my empty pizza box at a passing alien, I leaned back and thought about what I would do if the Avengers did lose and the world was overtaken by aliens. I could move out of the planet, but there were a few flaws to that plan.

The first was that I couldn't breathe in space. (I could always steal some stuff from NASA, but that seemed pretty farfetched.) The second was that I didn't exactly know my way across the galaxy. I mean, I could always wing it, but I was pretty sure that getting to one planet alone would take me _years_. Wasn't that always what the scientists said? Then there was the fact that I couldn't live without food or water.

Wow, _why_ had I even _considered_ this idea? There were so many things that could go wrong. I could have literally gone out there and died, although no one would really be left on Earth to care –

An altogether different sound reached my ears. I looked for the source and found it flying from the east. It was closing distance pretty quickly, and it scared the shit out of me.

It was a nuke.

A fucking big one at that.

The government must have realized how much of a lost cause this battle was and decided to bomb the entire city. But they must know that there are still a bunch of people here. They would have made them leave the subways and move out of the city... right?

I was just about to jump off the building and check for myself when a familiar red and gold suit zipped into view.

I could only watch as Tony Stark intercepted the nuke and moved to carry the brunt of it on his back. Slowly, he adjusted its trajectory so that it was flying more upwards than down. I saw that they were heading straight for the wormhole directly above Stark Tower.

A small breath of astonishment escaped my lips as I caught on to just what he was planning with the nuke. He certainly wasn't Tony fucking Stark for nothing.

As he and the nuke disappeared past the wormhole, I thought about how the explosion would no doubt still affect us Earthlings. It would continue past the wormhole. But then I remembered that these were The Avengers. They knew what they needed to do. And like I said, he wasn't Tony fucking Stark for nothing.

I leaned back and waited for the inevitable fireworks to take place.

It came after a few seconds, sending a deafening roar through the wormhole that echoed all throughout Manhattan. A few scraps of alien metal flew through the portal, which I had just noticed was steadily growing smaller. Following a particularly large piece of debris was Iron Man himself. I sighed in relief, but my smile was soon replaced with a frown.

He was falling towards the ground at an alarming speed. And he seemed to be passed out. And it was very clear that his repulsors were turned off.

"Shit," I said, again and again and again. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Iron Man was cool. I liked Iron Man. He could prove to be an egotistical ass sometimes on live television, but he still cared. That was probably the reason why I liked him so much.

With barely a second to think about it, I jumped off the windowsill and rocketed towards the rapidly falling Tony Stark.

I knew I couldn't very well catch him. That suit looked fucking heavy and I would probably break my spine trying to break his fall. So, as soon as I reached him, I grabbed his hand and tugged as hard as I could, fighting against the gravity that was trying to pull him down.

"Heavy motherfucker," I grunted as my muscles screamed in protest. Still, I was able to slow his fall, and I continued to lead us downwards at a steady pace until we were both safely on the ground. Well, he was lying on the concrete and I was panting over him, massaging my arms.

It was then that I remembered why I'd had to save him in the first place.

Uncertainly, I nudged his leg with my boot, hoping to wake him up. "Uh, Mr. Stark?" God, I sounded dumb. "Tony? You in there?"

Before I could say more, a series of heavy footsteps came running my way. More than just one pair, too. Looking up, my jaw dropped when I saw that it was Thor and Captain America. Following behind them was the massive, green figure of the Hulk. I was scared, but none of them paid me much thought.

I had half a mind to be pissed, but then Thor pulled Tony's mask off and I suddenly just felt very fucking stupid.

Wringing my wrists, I walked closer to them so that I could look at Iron Man's face as well. His eyes were closed. He looked peaceful. But goddammit, he wasn't supposed to be dead. What else had I saved him for? In a quiet voice, I asked, "Is he okay?"

"His arc reactor isn't working," Captain America – _the_ Captain America – said.

Weirdly enough, I couldn't bring myself to fangirl about it. I had heard Tony mention the arc reactor before in one of his interviews before, but I couldn't bring to mind why it sounded so familiar.

Stupidly, I said, "Is he breathing?"

"Barely," said the Captain. "Come on, Stark."

Several tense beats of silence passed. I was slowly devolving into a panic.

Tony fucking Stark was _dying_ and it may as well be _my_ fault. I mean, I could have taken that nuke off his shoulders and carried it through the hole myself. How hard could it have been? And besides, I was expendable. I could die and no one would give two shits. But this was Tony _fucking_ Stark, and –

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the Hulk let out a massive roar. It was a miracle I didn't shit myself. While the final strains of it were dying out, Tony's eyes flew open and a loud gasp escaped his lips. My shoulders sagged in relief, and I couldn't help the grin on my face. I had just saved Tony Stark.

Eat shit, mom.

"What the hell?" Tony said, glaring exasperatedly at the Hulk. "What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me."

His eyes were darting everywhere, as if expecting more aliens to pour in from the sky. Before long, his gaze landed on me. A self-satisfied smirk crept up my lips. It wasn't every day you could render Iron Man speechless.

"Goddammit, I must be dead," he muttered. "Really was banking on ending up downstairs though, but the view's definitely better up here... God, Pepper's gonna kill me."

I stared at Captain America questioningly. Was Stark always like this? I had heard he had an ego the size of Jupiter, but was he always so quick to brush things off? I mean, he had almost _died_.

Captain America just sighed. "You're not dead, Stark." He gestured to me. "This lady here saved your life."

" _Saved_ my…?" Tony blinked. "You caught me?"

"Oh, well..." It took me a few moments to get my thoughts in order. I was pretty sure I looked like a gaping fish. "You were falling and I sort of just... slowed you down, I guess."

He was quiet for a while, just staring, before the answer finally came to him. "You can _fly_?"

"Sort of... Not like how you can fly though. It's more natural, I guess? Yeah, it's a gene. Recessive, because none of my parents could fly, or at least not that I know of."

I had to forcibly cut myself off. I was rambling again. I always rambled when I was nervous. It didn't help that Captain America was staring at me really hard.

"Does SHIELD know about you?" he asked.

What the hell was SHIELD? I was about to ask him that, no doubt risking more of my dignity, but Iron Man saved me from sacrificing too much of my pride.

" _Of course_ Fury knows about her," he said. "I'm pretty sure he has records on everyone on the planet in that goddamned database of his."

Oh.

Oh shit.

It was all coming back to me.

Fury. Nick Fury. Director of SHIELD, AKA that secret government agency that kidnapped me and took me in for questioning a few years back. They had gotten footage of me flying past several country borders and breaking a few aviation laws, which I hadn't even known had existed until they pointed it out to me. After the routine questions – What is the extent of your abilities? How did you gain your powers? When did you find out you could fly? – they must have figured out that I wasn't really a threat. They let me go back to my apartment after making me promise to lay low and to not cause any trouble.

Now, standing in front of Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk, I had the darnest feeling that these people were going to make me go back to that facility.

I didn't want any trouble with SHIELD. I had been laying low. I hadn't broken any laws. In fact, I had just saved one of their assets. I didn't deserve to be taken in for questioning again.

Well, they were going to find me in one way or another. Why not give myself a head start, right?

Tony had taken to sitting up, and he was talking to the Captain about things that I couldn't bring myself to care about. The Hulk was sat down on the concrete and had his eyes closed, breathing deeply. It was probably one of the weirdest things I'd ever seen in my life.

"I really should get going," I said, a bit awkwardly. "Look, Mr. Stark, it was awesome to meet you and your suit in person. And thanks for saving the world, I guess... See you around?"

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He grinned. "We're gonna grab some shawarma."

"I'd really rather not."

Captain America stepped up this time. "You should come with us, grab a bite to eat and get your energy back. We could take you back to the Tower with us afterwards so you can call your folks or something."

As if they cared about my parents. I knew what it was he really wanted to happen once we got back to the Tower. He was going to rat me out to Director Fury and I was gonna have to answer all kinds of questions. Again.

Before any of them could say anything else, I shot off the ground and zipped out of there as fast as I could. I heard Tony trying to call me back, but he probably just wanted my number or something. Besides, I fucking hated shawarma.

And if he had really wanted me to stick around, he should have asked me my name first.


	2. Rich Asshole Meets Pizza Delivery Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I am not from America, I have never been to America, and I don't think I will ever get to America. That being said, everything I know about Joe's Pizza is solely referenced from the internet. I don't even know if they deliver pizzas! But for the sake of this story, let's pretend that they do, yes? ;)  
> 2\. I've decided that, since I wrote this story with barely a hint of a plotline in mind, IT WILL BE MARKED COMPLETE. Because technically, it is.
> 
> I'll probably return to this whenever I feel like writing about our favorite egotistical playboy philanthropist again. OR, y'all could comment a plotline I could use for a oneshot! :D
> 
> But yes, in the meantime, so long and goodbye.

 

Joe's Pizza was first established in 1975 by an Italian dude named Joe Pozzuoli. There were only three establishments to be found in the entire world: at the corner of Bleecker and Carmine street, 150 East 14th Street, and 216 Bedford Avenue. Joe, though old as all hell, still operated the whole business.

The pizzeria was labeled as "Best of New York" and listed as one of the "Best 25 Pizzas on Earth". But though it was the quintessential New York slice, there were still complaints on the service and the employees.

To put in simpler words: the pizza was great, but the people were shit.

I tried to be above and beyond everyone else. Eventually, the customers had to realize that getting to eat good pizza wasn't worth being treated with disrespect. Unfortunately, there was very little I could do to uphold the actual reputation of the restaurant, because technically I wasn't a part of said restaurant. I was just a delivery girl. Once, the manager had tried to get me onto the cashier, but that had ended with a very long line of unsatisfied and hungry customers. We had all agreed to just let me stick to delivering the pizzas.

Some people think that the delivery business is as easy as pie. In some situations, it probably is. But delivering pizzas in New York? It was like trying to get past a stampede of cattle. And with all the honking and the cutting, it was pretty hard to keep up the good vibes until the pizza was dropped off.

 Then there was the problem with the people who complained about you being "late" when you had promised to have the pizza delivered by 5pm and you were in fact just that good of a buzzer beater. It was those times when it became particularly difficult to maintain the smiling facade and polite tone that I could, miraculously, conjure up.

I was on my way to deliver a box of fresh mozzarella pie, just cruising through traffic lines, when this goddamned motherfucker cut in front of me ( _FROM BEING PARKED BY THE SIDEWALK_ ) and took my place in the line just as the light turned red.

Before he crossed the intersection, I managed to land a light tap on his fancy ass hood. "Nice job, asshole!" Rich asshole. I'd bet a hundred dollars that he was one of those types who sat on someone else's shoulders and called themselves tall.

When the light turned green again, I raced past the intersection. I had approximately five more minutes before my time was up and before the customer would be well and justly angry.

As I was turning down E 14th street, I caught sight of the familiar shiny, black, rich person's car that had cut me off. Sneering behind my helmet, I put my motor into high gear and zipped up from behind the limo. I was fucking close to knocking the guy's side mirror out, but I swerved just enough to miss, and before long I was in front of him again. I took a second to flip him The Finger over my shoulder before getting back on track.

The pizza wasn't going to deliver itself.

* * *

 

Tony was not having a good day.

He hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night. And while he was content with just staying in his lab and tinkering with a few experimental modifications on his suits, he had been forced to take a shower and get changed for a meeting with Fury. (Pepper had to practically drag him out of the room, telling JARVIS to keep the doors locked until he came back from said meeting.)

It had been a month since Loki's army had nearly destroyed New York. The city was being restored, the people were moving on with their lives, and Fury was trying his darnest to keep another catastrophe off their hands. He had conducted the meeting with Tony to discuss preparations, should another evil megalomaniac appear out of nowhere and try to take over the world. To Tony's dismay, Fury had suggested that he convert the Tower into a dorm of sorts. (Fury had phrased it as "living quarters" but Tony caught on pretty quickly.)

A dorm.

For the Avengers.

Tony was forced to agree to the proposition. He didn't like the idea, but it was a good idea. The Tower would be in close proximity to the Helicarrier, so SHIELD would be able to easily contact them should something go wrong. They would have a bunch of Stark Tech at their disposal, transportation-wise or weapon-wise.

It was a good idea.

But that meant that Tony would actually have to _live_ with people. Pepper had gotten used to his habits – eat, go into the lab and tinker, eat, sleep; she was always busy as well. The Avengers wouldn't understand like she did. They were going to be nosy and impatient. They were going to want to know about the nightmares.

... But he supposed that they could be good fun too. There was definitely the possibility of late night movie marathons, with the cinema smelling of butter popcorn after years of being uninhabited. The gym would finally get some noise in it. Tony would actually have to stock up the pantry every few weeks, because God knows that Steve ate like a fucking bull. So did those SHIELD assassins.

Oh shit.

Tony was going to have to live with Romanoff's bossy ass.

He was so busy sulking over preparations and the possible floor renovations that he barely noticed that they had entered Manhattan's East Village, a place he liked to call Hippie Street. Riots were going on most of the time, but Tony remembered when he had entered one of East Village's night clubs. Met a girl. Had some awesome sex.

He also remembered a girl, a different one from a different time, with a mop of blond hair and tawny hazel eyes. She worked at Joe's Pizza – or at least that was what he assumed when he saw her wearing the employee's shirt and pants.

She could also fly.

Which was why Tony could barely believe his eyes when, as they were passing through East Village, he noticed the very same girl, with the very same mop of blond hair, standing on the doorstep of one of the buildings lining the street. She had a helmet tucked into her side, and she was wearing a different shirt, but Tony was more than sure that it was her.

"Stop the car."

Happy did so immediately. As soon as they had stopped moving, Tony got out of the car and was striding across the street, not caring how it had just rained and how his shoes probably cost a couple thousand dollars. Happy was calling for him to wait up, but Tony was already so close.

He deducted that the girl was making a delivery. She had just handed over a box of pizza to a grim-faced old woman, who had promptly shut the door on her face, when Tony reached her. She turned around and he stood stock-still, watching the way her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Shit,” he heard her mutter.

“You’re the one who saved me,” he said, still a bit astonished that he had found her without even having to try. “After the Battle.”

She stared at him for a moment more before her attention moved to the side, taking in Happy’s wide figure behind him before flicking over to the car. Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re the asshole who cut me off in the street.”

“Well, to be fair, I wasn’t driving. It was my bodyguard, Happy.”

“Your bodyguard’s name is _Happy_?”

Said bodyguard suddenly spoke up from behind Tony. “Right here, miss,” he said, polite as ever. “And Mr. Stark was the one who gave me that nickname. My real name is Harold.”

Her eyebrow went up. “I think I’ll stick with Happy.”

“You want to come with me back to Stark Tower?” Tony interrupted, eager to get things back on track. People were starting to take notice of his presence, and he didn’t want to make a scene – at least, not with her in the middle of it. “Have a few drinks, maybe play some ping pong, and then you tell me more about your powers. What’s your name by the way?”

She brushed past him, and Tony didn’t miss the way her perfume smelled like a strange mix of ginger and vanilla. Simple. Comforting. He turned and saw that she had already mounted her rented motorcycle. She started the engine, and Tony quickly moved to stand in front of the vehicle to keep her from driving away.

A groan escaped her lips. “What do you want?”

“Let me take you back to the Tower,” he said. “Please?” Shit, he did _not_ say that often.

“Why?”

He blinked. “You saved my life. I want to know more about you.”

“What, so you can relay all the shit I tell you to Fury?”

“He knows everything he needs to know about you. He doesn’t care that you used your powers in the Battle – I confirmed that with him.”

“You _confirmed with him_?”

_Geez, she really does_ not _like Fury._ “I swear that you won’t find any trouble at the Tower. Honestly, I just want to talk.” Pepper would kill him if he tried to sleep with her anyway.

“Look, dude, I have a job. I’ve got pizzas to deliver and I _need_ the money.”

“I’ll give you three grand if you just _come with me_.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m not taking your money!”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Shit, I am _not_ having this conversation right now.” He ran a hand over his face to gather his bearings. “Fine! Here, you work at Joe’s, right? The one down Bleecker and Carmine? I’ll give the manager a call, tell him to excuse you for the rest of the day, maybe even give you a raise. Now will you _please_ just fucking _come with me_ to the Tower?”

A deal like that would have made anyone else heartily agree. Hell, even the question of being invited to Stark Tower for free would have made other women’s knees quiver in excitement. But even after hearing about a raise and Tony putting in a good word for her, she still looked reluctant. He wasn’t sure whether she despised him or whether she just really wanted to deliver those pizzas.

Finally, after a minute of silence, she said, “Do we convoy?”

“No. Get in the car.”

She looked appalled. “What about my ride?”

Tony thought for a moment before turning to his bodyguard. “Happy, you don’t mind driving it back to Joe’s, do you?”

Tony was sure that he did mind, but the only sign of Happy’s irritation was a brief twitch of his eye. “No, sir.”

“I’ll be sure to have called the manager before you get there.”

Hesitantly, the girl threw Happy the keys to the motorcycle, and Tony quickly ushered her into his car’s passenger seat, getting his keys from Happy as they went. He got into the driver’s seat, started the car, and began cruising them back to Stark Tower. For some reason, Tony felt nervous. His hands were clammy, and he found that his eyes kept darting to the side. He was offered a bit of relief when he saw that she seemed just as tense as he was.

“Is there any particular reason why you want me to drive back with you to Stark Tower?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know your name.”

She looked at him weirdly. “You could just ask me.”

He just shrugged. If he were to be honest with himself, he didn’t know why he was so hell-bent on taking her back with him, either. Maybe it was because she had saved his life. He wanted to know more about her, more than just what Fury had in his files (which Tony hadn’t even seen yet.) _Yeah,_ he thought to himself. _That’s probably it._

And yet, on their way back to the Tower, he still didn’t ask for her name.

**Author's Note:**

> very VERY important A/N in the next chapter.


End file.
